


exchange rate on morality

by jdphoenix



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Episode: s01e21 Ragtag, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 19:58:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7654636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You gotta give me something here, sweetheart. There’s gotta be something HYDRA can offer you that SHIELD can’t.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	exchange rate on morality

**Author's Note:**

> See the end note for a slightly spoilery warning regarding the ... lack of warnings.

“I could use a mind like yours,” John says with a smile. “So what sort of incentive is it gonna take to get you working on my Centipede serum, hm?” Grant stiffens when John’s gaze slides to Fitz. He’s complained more than once about the things Fitz said to him at the Hub and, if the darkening of his eyes now is any indication, he’s still not over it. “I did promise to shoot off ol’ Fitzy’s kneecaps, didn’t I?”

Fitz struggles against the HYDRA grunt holding him - more for show than because he’s really planning on getting anywhere - and another grunt unholsters his sidearm. Simmons is pale like she was when she was _dying_ and obviously that’s not gonna get them anywhere, so Grant takes a step forward, searching for the right words to get John to back the hell off.

“Oh, please,” Raina says, sounding bored - she looks it too, sitting against the couch-back the way she is. “I know how you boys love your sticks, but can’t you try the carrot?” She shrugs. “Worked with me.”

It’s a solid point - and John seems to agree - but it’s _wrong_ coming from Raina the way it does. She’s smiling and her tone can only be described as flirty. Raina’s been icing John out ever since she found out he wasn’t really clairvoyant. Grant watches her a few seconds more and wishes he could watch her even longer, but John’s trying to feel Simmons out and that he’s gotta keep an eye on.

“All right then,” John says, “what’s it gonna take? HYDRA’ll let you have all the toys. Things SHIELD never would’ve dreamed of letting you do, we won’t bat an eye at.”

Simmons’ jaw tightens. Her and her stupid morals.

John steps back, sighing. “You gotta give me something here, sweetheart. There’s gotta be something HYDRA can offer you that SHIELD can’t.”

It’s quick - so quick that Grant would miss it if he weren’t holding his breath hoping Simmons demands a lifetime supply of her favorite tea or a boxed set of Doctor Who DVDs or _anything_ \- but it’s there. Her eyes flick to him for just a second, just long enough and short enough to let them know _exactly_ what she wants that she can’t get with SHIELD.

John doesn’t waste any time ordering Fitz moved to the Cage - for safe keeping, he promises Simmons, he won’t be harmed so long as it doesn’t become necessary. There’s a little fight then; Fitz tries to pull something from his pocket, but one of the grunts breaks his fingers before he can do any harm.

“It became necessary,” John says with an apologetic shrug. Grant doesn’t quite agree since all that falls from Fitz’s hand is a joy buzzer, but there are bigger things to worry about. Like the guards all being ordered to get back to their stations and Raina heading for the lab and John for Coulson’s office and the order for Grant to “help Simmons find her way.”

Yeah. That’s gonna be fun.

She’s standing in the middle of the lounge, totally confused about her guard detail suddenly disappearing on her, and Grant takes her arm in as gentle a grip as he can manage.

“Ward,” she says. She’s afraid, on the verge of pleading, but she’s not sure what to plead for yet.

He ignores her, trying to figure out just how to do this. He’d been thinking the bunks, but those walls are paper-thin. The lounge is out, in part because it sees too much foot traffic - he doesn’t want lookie-loos - but mostly because he’s already dragging her into the narrow hallway.

The guard outside the cockpit openly checks her out as they draw nearer, and Grant fixes him with a glare, committing the guy’s face to memory. He knows who he’s wailing on next time he needs a good workout.

“Ward, _please_ ,” Simmons says. “I understand you were never our friend but Fitz-”

“Is safe so long as he doesn’t cause any trouble.” He opens the wall panel hiding the ladder to the cargo hold. “Now you and I have some business.”

His stomach rolls as he takes the ladder down ahead of her. It’s not business. He wants it to be; he’s done this on orders a hundred times and it doesn’t bother him anymore. But this is _Simmons_. She’s his friend. It’s never gonna be just a job.

She hesitates long enough that he reaches the bottom before she’s begun, and he throws her a smile. “I’ll catch you if you fall.”

She finally tears her eyes away from the guard up top and gives him her most judgmental look. Good. He wasn’t liking the shrinking violet version of Simmons. It’s safer right now, but it’s just not her and the longer she kept it up the more chance of her snapping. Better she snap with him - and do it now - than later around John.

She doesn’t fall on the way down and, when she hits the ground, she crosses her arms and glares at the wall instead of at him.

“You’re mad?” he asks softly.

Her shoulders shake as she pulls in a long breath. “You lied to us.”

He catches her chin, brings her around to facing him. “I had good reasons, ones I think you might agree with.”

There’s something in her eyes … he’s not sure it’s quite a weakness but it’s an opening at the very least.

“Garrett,” she says before he can capitalize on it, “he’s dying.”

His heart constricts in his chest. _No one’s supposed to know._ But of course Coulson figured it out. “The raid on CyberTek.”

She nods.

He’ll have to let John know - especially since, last he heard, Coulson and the others made it out of the trap back at the barber shop - but for now he’s got his orders.

“Come on,” he says, taking her hand in his and pulling her along to the nearest storage pod.

“What are you doing?” Simmons asks as he seals the door behind them. “Ward. You have to know that-”

He backs her into the shelves. Boxes of gloves and bandages shake in their positions and she stares up at him with wide open eyes. “Remember the last time we were in here?” he asks softly. “I got a graze in Johannesburg and you were out of the right size of bandage in the lab.”

She swallows, and he buries a hand in her hair.

“You laughed when I said the other guy’s luck was worse.”

“Terrible joke,” she mumbles, her eyes are on his mouth.

He smiles. “You still laughed.” He drops his head forward. “I wanted so bad to do this then.”

He didn’t but he knew she wanted him to and that’s enough. She arches up into him when he kisses her and he wraps a hand halfway around her waist, holding her up so he doesn’t have to bend quite so far.

Her hands are on his face, holding his jaw, and it’s her who breaks the kiss. He tries to follow her, especially when her mouth opens just a little, but her hands drop between them to stop him. She’s breathing heavy so that her breasts brush his chest every time her lungs fill up. He slides his hand up and down her back, waiting patiently for her to open her eyes.

They’re angry when she opens them - but still aroused and that’s not nothing.

“You think that I would trade my morals for- for an orgasm in a supply closet?”

“It’s gonna be a really good orgasm,” he points out because he can’t let that dismissive tone of hers go. “And this isn’t a trade. You’re gonna help Garrett because it’s the smart thing to do, and HYDRA’s gonna look the other way while two of its agents fraternize.”

“What about Skye?”

He stiffens - and not in the seduction-appropriate way.

She looks away. “I know you’re in love with her. You have been for-”

He cups her cheek in his palm. “That was for the mission, that’s all.” He holds onto those words after he says them, lets them settle in his heart because he’s gonna make them true. Whatever stupid, childish feelings he had for Skye, he knew nothing would ever come from it. He was naïve to think he could keep her, even with John’s permission.

It’s Simmons he needs to focus on now.

He leans forward again, but her hand is firm against his chest. “It’s the same.” She swallows. “I mean, you were using her feelings for you to convince us you cared and then to get the hard drive. Now you’re seducing me so I’ll work for Garrett. What’s the difference?”

The difference is that she’s warm and ready instead of hitting him and calling him a Nazi.

He pulls out a few of the stops: leans over her because he knows she’s got a thing for tall guys, lowers his voice, lets his fingers drift lightly into the sensitive skin at the back of her neck. “The difference,” he says, “is that I want this - and so do you.”

Her mouth opens in a sinful little O and her pupils widen. “You do?” He’s been hanging around the lab for months, fostering her little crush on him but at the same time keeping enough distance that she doesn’t get the wrong idea; of course she’s a little surprised to hear he’s actually interested.

He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her away from the uncomfortable shelves and flush against him. Her gasp sends a jolt straight down from where he can feel it in his chest to his crotch. “Yes,” he says and kisses her again.

Her hands fist in the front of his shirt instead of pushing him away, and that’s all it takes. Jackets and shirts fall away, taking the remains of the Cuban heat with them to make room for a different kind. She moans when his callused hands slide over her bare skin, and he’s gotta bury a chuckle in her shoulder. He’s had her carrying his torch for months and he knows damn well she wasn’t getting any before the Bus either.

She writhes against him when he leaves a mark behind, dragging him down in a way he takes to mean she wants up. He wraps his hands low around her back, and her legs come up around his waist, and then he’s got her back against the door. Her head falls against it as he buries his hand between them, and the long line of her neck is like an invitation.

The sound she makes has his blood surging and for a minute it’s just him and Jemma; no HYDRA, no SHIELD, no mission, just their bodies and the infuriating space separating them.

 _This_ is why it can’t be just a job fucking her. Months spent flirting with her and he _enjoyed_ it, enjoyed making her smile and laugh, and nothing made her happier than when he let his real self slip through. She likes him, the real him, even if she doesn’t know him yet - and he likes her. He likes her sense of humor and her kindness and her innocence and the way her hands keep slipping on his shoulders so she has to wrap her arms around his neck and that she buries her face against his chest. Her breath pants against his sweat-slicked skin with every roll of their hips and, when she comes, he can feel her biting her own lip to stifle a cry.

Next time, he’s gonna make sure he hears it. Because there _will_ be a next time. He couldn’t keep Skye, but he’s practically been ordered to keep Jemma - and he intends to.

 

**Author's Note:**

> There is definitely some dub-con here. Personally I think it's 100% consensual but there's definitely manipulation going on and Jemma's not in the best position to be saying no even if she wanted to.


End file.
